Fixation
by Spunky Kitten
Summary: Rachel loved the doll she so carefully created. It was modeled after a real person after all; a person she had a strong urge to make all hers. She wonders if making him hers will cure the ache in her chest.


**Okay, so I got this idea after reading** _ **Urges**_ **by Vizuci, a story over on AO3. It was a short little piece, but it's an amazing concept! And as a gift to the writer, I've decided to expand on it! But check out the writer and show some love!**

 **For the Fanfic Users that don't prefer to use AO3:** I'll give you a rundown of the concept. In _Urges_ , Zack finds Rachel in an alley. But when he decides to kill her, he witnesses her killing a puppy and sewing it up. He asks what she's doing, and she bluntly says she's fixing it up. He leaves her to it after laughing when she says he's weird. And she goes home and makes a plushie of Zack, because she has a strange urge to make him hers. That's it!

 **So here my add-on to the story! Enjoy!**

* * *

"I'd like to start off this session a little differently," Doctor Danny stated as Rachel took her seat across from him. "Instead of talking about the usual topics, I'd like to ask about _that_." He pointed to the stuffed doll the blonde held tightly in her embrace.

"What about him?" Rachel softly asked, squeezing her toy a little tighter.

"I'd like to know why you seemed more attached to that toy that to your own parents," Danny said matter-of-factly, his smile still on his lips. "Before you came in, the police officials informed me how you begged to keep it on your person, despite a few bloodstains on it. They also said your only reason was because it was very important to you."

The girl was silent for a moment, staring intensely down at the plushie in her grip. Her blue gaze darkened yet glowed with a chilling expression. "Because he's mine… I want him to be _mine_ ," she answered, a smile curling her lips.

Danny nodded, keeping his gaze on Rachel's eyes. "Could you tell me more? From your explanation, your toy is modeled after a real person."

"That's right," Rachel responded. "He's just…Mine…" But then her smile curled downward and her eyes faded back to their original dull state. "But things never seem to turn out the way I want them to. I went to the same alley every day… But he was never there…"

"I see. What would you do if you did meet this person again?"

The blonde's deep oceanic eyes lit up ever so slightly, a mixture of joy and desire. "I would be so happy. If I made him mine, then I think I would never feel lonely again. I just know it…"

"And what if I said I know where he is?"

Rachel's head snapped up to look at the doctor. "You do…?"

"I do. And I could take you there if you'd like."

"You'd really do that, Doctor?"

"Anything for you, Rachel! But I want something too." Danny stood up from his chair and knelt next to Rachel's seat. Her deep blue irises gazed down at him as he smiled up at her. "I want you to keep looking at me with those gorgeous peepers of yours. They are exactly what I've been searching for; little blue oceans so alive and yet so dead." He caressed her cheeks, gazing up at her like he just discovered a goddess. "I'll fill those peepers with so much love."

Rachel closed her eyes, rolling the suggestion around in her head. Maybe this time, things would work out the way she wanted.

* * *

Rachel opened her eyes to find herself facing a large window, the blue moon pouring light into the empty room. The only object within it was the chair she sat upon. Her eyes stared intensely at the moon for a moment, realizing it was just painted on, and the lights used to imitate moonlight must be behind the painting. That could only lead her to believe either there were no real windows built into the room or she wasn't above ground anymore. She wracked her brain for possible memories of her current predicament but came up empty. All she remembered before waking up was being in her room and—

The blonde gasped as a sudden memory filtered into her mind and frantically fumbled for her bag at her hip. With shaking fingers, she popped it open and dug around. Her pack of needles and thread were tucked away on one end while a special object wrapped in a handkerchief was on the other end. But what she was searching for was right in the middle of her purse. Rachel quickly pulled it out and examined it.

"Thank goodness," she whispered, relieved to see that her plushie wasn't damaged. She ran a delicate finger over its face. She remembered using thin white cloth to imitate bandages. And she never had a good look at skin tone, so she just went with black around the eyes. The most unforgettable feature of the face was that one gold eye, glowing in the darkness. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

She delicately put the toy back in her purse after giving it a squeeze and walked to the room's only exit. When she opened the door, she faced an unfamiliar hallway. Well, to be fair, the whole building was going to be unfamiliar to her. She had never gone anywhere below where Doctor Danny had told her to go. Rachel cautiously stepped down the hall to the only other room. But inside was simply a mirror wall and a table with a computer. The monitor glowed eerily blue, waiting to be activated. Her blues eyes stared back at her in the mirror, deep blue pools dulled with an indescribable emptiness.

A few seconds ticked by until the computer suddenly beeped, causing the girl to slightly jump. She slowly looked down to see white letters being typed out.

"Who are you?" it read.

The blonde blinked in confusion but decided to answer. She typed 'Rachel Gardner' and hit the Enter key. The computer began typing again.

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know," Rachel quietly said aloud, pondering once more why she was in this place. Well, she knew some of the details, but the motive for being in this specific room was blurry.

"Why are you here?" the computer typed once more.

"I…" Rachel slowly lowered her head, pressing her delicate fingers to the keys. They slowly typed out an answer as the memories continued to expose themselves from the fogginess in her mind. 'I want to see someone.' Her typed answer stared back at her.

"Who?" the next message read.

'I don't know his name. But I know he's important to me; very important.'

After she pressed the Enter key and submitted her response, the sound of gear whirring to life caused Rachel to investigate the sound. Sure enough, the elevator at the very end of the hall was open and ready to receive passengers. The blue-eyed girl cautiously stepped onto the elevator, and the doors almost immediately closed behind her. The ride up, despite being all alone in a large and comfortable-looking elevator, was tense. Static came over the speakers in the elevator, as if ready to relay a message. But then it was cut off. Rachel shrugged to herself, disregarding the moment entirely.

A sudden shake of the elevator signaled the end of its ascent. When the heavy metal doors opened, Rachel slowly stepped out, taking in her surroundings. It looked like your average town street, but the deep red lighting of the area made it feel more sinister. She wandered aimlessly down the streets, nothing familiar catching her eye. If she could just find a way to go back to the ground floor, then…

A high-pitched chirp resounded from above. The blonde looked up to spot a little white bird. From her viewpoint, she could see there was blood on its wing. Was it injured?

"Come down," Rachel gently cooed, albeit with her monotone voice. She watched as the bird hopped down in front of her and started pecking at crumbs she hadn't noticed before. "Oh, were you hungry…?" While the bird was busy eating, Rachel examined its wing. It didn't look like an injured wing. Did it get the blood on its pretty white feathers from somewhere else? If so, then where?

Just as she was about to reach with her feathered friend, a loud crash and something wet hitting her cheek caused Rachel's eyes to widen in surprise; or as much surprise as her apathetic attitude would allow her to express. A black boot stomped onto the pool of blood in front of her. She looked up to see a tall, slender man in red jeans and a dark hoodie cackling loudly. Her eyes widened with familiarity. She has seen this person before. She could feel it. But she couldn't pinpoint exactly where.

"Oh, that was great!" he exclaimed. "Your eyes are just full of desp—huh?" He looked down at her, his lips suddenly curling downward into a frown. He seemed to be searching her eyes for something but was disappointed when he couldn't find it. Her eyes looked at him in awe and curiosity, but he was probably expecting someone different. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Helloooo! Guy with a big-ass scythe ready to cut you open here! Can't you make a more terrified expression?! God, you're weird!" He perched the handle of his scythe onto his shoulder and turned away. "Yer too boring for me to kill. Have fun dying somewhere else."

Then it finally clicked. Those words; she had distinctively heard them before. Rachel slowly slipped her hand into her bag and pulled out her most prized possession. She held out the plushie to the retreating figure, its face turned away from her. It was a match. Everything about this person matched the doll's features.

"It's you," she whispered, causing the young man to stop and turn back.

When he looked back at her, he was surprised to see her holding a doll that looked a lot like him. The girl's blue eyes continued to shift between it and him. He began to grow irritated. Was she comparing him to a _doll_?! Granted, it did look like him, but still!

"What the fuck is that?!" the dark-haired man shouted, stomping his way back over.

The blonde seemed to break out of whatever trance she was in because her blue eyes immediately snapped to his golden eyes. "Oh," she quietly replied, "I made it. I…made it…because…" The gears in her head began turned, once again at work to find her lost memories.

"Because what?! Spit it out already."

"Maybe because…" Rachel took a deep breath, searching the crevices of her mind for a reason, any reason, that she would go out of her way to reunite with a killer. "I wanted to remember you… So when I found you…I could ask you…to kill me…please…"

* * *

 **So…I found this in my files and just decided to post it. I do remember bits and pieces of when I first wrote this. I don't know if I should continue. But if anyone wants to pick it up from here, go for it. Like a fanfic writer Hot Potato, or a big anonymous collaboration. Who knows.**


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